There is strip of land in Malir in Karachi that is almost a kilometre-and-a-half in length and 300 metres wide, sporting almost 320 to 350 stone-carved tombs commonly referred to as Chowkandi. This graveyard is not to be confused with the Chaukhandi graveyard at Bin Qasim Town, where warriors and people from the Jokhai tribe are buried.

The Malir graveyard, according to a study and conversation on site, houses graves of warriors and people from the Kalmati tribe. The Jokhia and Kalmati tribes are two of the many Baloch tribes that settled in areas of lower Sindh and are commonly referred to as jaablo (from the mountains) says a local man.

This makes sense logically, since jabal means mountain in Sindhi and it appears that both the Kirthar range and Hingol range systems had a role to play in the kind of funerary architecture that transpired within Baloch tribal communities.

The culture of burying the dead in intricately carved graves was prevalent in lower Sindh and Balochistan for some time before the Malir graveyard had its first dead interred on the site. The culture took stronger root with the Samma Jams (13th century) from Thatta deciding to make elaborate funerary chambers and graves for their deceased at Makli, and funerary architecture receiving royal patronage.

One can assume that it was then adopted by the different tribes that forged alliances or drew conflicts with the royals, depending on the political climate of both the Subcontinent and Sindh. The sharing of funerary culture and its representation was a clear gesture of camaraderie between the royal and the tribal cultures, in my opinion. Even within their conflicts, either between the royals and tribes or intra tribes, the shared culture of carved funerary structures transcended differences.

The stone-carved tombs in Karachi’s Malir area are distinct from the more well-known Chaukhandi graves in Bin Qasim Town but share remarkable similarities. More attention needs to be paid to the area’s rich funerary architecture and also to prevent it from destruction

There are numerous small- and large-scale graveyard sites in Sindh and Balochistan. This grave culture was not limited to lower Sindh and Balochistan but some upper Sindh graveyards also received similar structures.

The practice continued from the 13th century to the late colonial period; in fact, a stronger grave culture appeared between the 16th and 18th centuries. A quick glance into websites of the Department of Culture, Tourism, Antiquities and Archives, Sindh, and the Endowment Fund Trust for Preservation of the Heritage of Sindh, confirm this.

Similarly, the tradition of stone-carving in the Subcontinent was fairly widespread and not just limited to lower Sindh and the vicinity. One witnesses examples of stone-carved architecture all across present-day India and Pakistan. There are studies that show traces of carved graves all across the Indian Ocean, migrating to other parts from the mercantile polities of Balochistan, Sindh and Gujarat.

The graves are remarkable multi-tiered structures, where carved stones are stacked one upon the other to achieve the desired verticality and, in some instances, become almost pyramidical, like the Taung graveyard in Sindh.

No matter the complex verticality of the graves, they almost always contain a base (shallow or high), a main chamber with the most carvings (single or multi-tiered), and a top or grave stone (flat and vertical varieties). The slabs were supposed to hold each other by their sheer weight, as there was no use of mortar. This is one of the reasons for the wear and tear on the graves, other than vandalism and anthropogenic factors (human agency).

The mortar one finds on graves are evidence of attempts made by authorities to preserve and curb vandalism. The most affected and vulnerable are the headstones that tip over and fall down; many can be seen scattered on the ground, mostly and ideally lying close to the grave they belong to.

There are multiple typologies of funerary structures within the corpus of stone-carved graves, like the free-standing stone-carved graves, graves on a platform, graves in an enclosure, graves under pillared canopies and domed square chambers having graves within. This covers the commonly occurring structures.

There can be other varieties of funerary structures as well. For example, grave markers and memorial stones as seen in Tharparkar and its vicinity, as covered extensively by Dr Zulfiqar Ali Kalhoro in his book Memorial Stones of Tharparkar.

Two other important local scholars who have published on stone-carved grave cultures and funerary architecture in Pakistan are Dr Kaleem Ullah Lashari (A Study of Stone Carved Graves) and Shaikh Khurshid Hasan (Chaukhandi Tombs in Pakistan and The Islamic Architectural Heritage of Pakistan: Funerary Memorial Architecture). These works provide deep insights into understanding the architecture, decoration and nomenclature of the graves.

The graves and/or graveyards are commonly referred to as Chaukandi, with multiple spelling iterations in English, eg Chowkandi or Chaukhandi and, in one instance, lending a name to the graveyard that is in Bin Qasim Town that belongs to Jokhia tribe.

There is a lot of debate in scholarly circles, especially in the aforementioned books, regarding the meaning of the word itself — is it the free-standing graves or pillared canopies or a collective name for the graveyards sporting stone-carved graves etc. In some texts there is a mention of local nomenclature for the structures mostly based on Sindhi language.

The graves themselves are called rumi graves or gharayoon (literally meaning carved), the enclosure and platform types are called rank, memorial stones are called mahyoon and stone-carving is called chitsaali, literally meaning carving in Sindhi.

The chitsaali or carving patterns are as diverse as the structural formations, but a cursory glance shows floral (local and sometimes arabesque), geometric (organic / flowy, inorganic and Islamic) and instances of figural motifs — the most common being horse riders.

Inanimate objects such as turbans, weaponry and jewellery designs also appear on some graves, but are rare at the Malir graveyard. Similarly, writing, either epigraphic record or calligraphy, is rare to almost absent in these graveyards and the same is the case with the Malir graveyard, where crude writing samples are found.

For an architectural historian like myself, with a research focus on stone-carving traditions in lower Sindh, these graveyards, including the one in Malir, are of significant value and must be researched as part of a larger protection plan.

Some other sites in lower Sindh near Karachi are Maqam Qadam Shah Graveyard in Gharo, Sondha, Lakho Pir and Pir Patho graveyards in Thatta. All these sites are mentioned on the Culture Department of Sindh and the Endowment Fund Trust websites, and both of these provide some pictorial information, location maps and written descriptions.

There is an urgent need to go beyond this basic information and conduct a thorough research on these graveyards, collect pictorial data and do pattern mapping, to understand what appeared where, and how. Through this type of data-mapping, one will be able to identify similarities, differences and trends that prevailed within this corpus of funerary tradition.

Why am I advocating data-mapping? Because there are several published materials available but there is hardly any serious scientific mapping of the carving patterns, which can lead to many further investigations, as each motif has a tale to tell.

Currently, the Malir graveyard is without a boundary wall, out in the open with a small, almost negligible presence of the Culture Department, Sindh. They have a small room at the very start of the site, have a chowkidar (very helpful and kind fellow) and two information boards. The site is a thoroughfare for trucks, motorbikes and cars. With “rapid development” works going on all around and adjacent to the site and its precincts, trucks carrying building material and going through the site are a common sight. At least, it should have a compound wall to stop vehicles passing through it.

Lastly, these sites must be seen and protected as holistic culture rather than isolated, independent graveyard sites. For example, the current interim government asked for the Chaukhandi graveyard to be made into an archaeological park, as per media coverage. Chaukhandi and Malir are sister graveyards, since a large volume of graves is of the warriors who fell in the tribal battle between the Kalmatis and Jokhias, according to the caretaker on the site.

Before any comprehensive action is taken by any government, it is important to consider these funerary sites as a larger shared heritage. It is important to understand the nuances of funerary memorial architecture and reverence culture that is prevalent in the country. We need also to be mindful of the sanctity and sacredness of the sites to be preserved, and how associations and affinities continue within the communities whose forefathers are buried in these graveyards.

There is a reason for the continued burial on these sites, because communities are still residing in the vicinity and want to be buried with or close to their forefathers. It is quite understandable. Rather than barring them and coming up with a top-down approach, a more comprehensive bottom-up approach, with community inclusion, can last longer.

A small portion of the sites can be dedicated to receive new burials, perhaps, with a thorough check and balance system by the authorities. But, clearly, a single one-room facility and an absent compound wall will never be enough.

These understandings should be made part of the conservation and preservation policies, both local and international. Keeping these in mind, efforts should be made by the Government of Sindh and Pakistan to declare them as world heritage, simply because of their widespread resonance, felt not only in Sindh and Balochistan, but in the larger Indian Ocean littoral.

Meanwhile, people like me will continue to do what they know, that is to document, map, develop data banks and disseminate knowledge.

The writer is an academic and
researcher of history of architecture
with a focus on the region of Sindh

Published in Dawn, EOS, January 21st, 2024